That which you seek
by Lord Herp of Derp
Summary: Say'ri gets more than she bargained for.


_Usual copyright stuff: Fire Emblem belongs to IS and Nintendo, ect._

* * *

It was a miserably rainy twilight when Say'ri finally saw the lights of port and smelled the ocean. When she heard a fortnight ago that Ylisse had defeated the landing party Walhart had launched, she knew this was the chance she needed so desperately. With barely a second thought she'd abandoned trying to unite the splintered rebel factions, all too busy bitching about each other when they weren't betraying each other to actually form a resistance. Instead she'd planned with the few groups that did support her, covered half the continent in those few weeks, sneaking her way to this nameless port with barely anything more than her armour and some food she'd managed to scavenge along the way. The unladylike skills such as hunting and archery her mother and father had disapproved of had proven to be quite useful, though her bow had been damaged beyond repair during her travels to this port. As much as she loved that bow, she'd abandoned it the utmost reluctance when it ran out of arrows; she hadn't had the luxury of dead weight at the time.

She'd miss that bow, she mused. It had been a gift from her mother for her fifteenth season...

...No time to get complacent now though, she supposed as the cart she was riding approached the town. She'd been lucky so far; one of the resistance members had merchants acting as spies. It had taken nearly a week of forced marching but she'd managed to rendezvous with them-one show of the token she'd been given later, she had a long hooded cloak and become one of the mercenary escorts riding on (and protecting) the caravan from bandits. Her calves had been most grateful for riding on a cart, sitting up near the caravan leader. He'd made a point of not asking for her name, and a point of not giving his own.

"Remember girl," he rumbled out as they approached the gates to the walled town, "you're a Chon'sin mercenary and you're still not very good at speaking anything but Chon'sin." While Say'ri double checked her cloak and hood to make sure none of her equipment showed-well beyond what a sell-sword could afford-the carts approached the gate. Pulling into the sheltered barbican, they were not surprised when the gate didn't even attempt to open. A guard with a rain-cloak and torch approached the caravan, and the merchant leader hopped down off the cart.

"State your business," ordered the guard, a skinny man who sounded as bored as he looked, judging from the flickering torchlight.

"Merchants, come to sell our wares," the man replied. He pulled out a bundle of papers from his coat pocket and handed them over to the guard. "All stamped from the governor of Oxenford, as you can see."

The guard studied them carefully. Say'ri cursed silently. A guard who actually bothered. Apparently satisfied with the papers, he walked along the carts, stopping when he came to her. Looking up at her his face suddenly became much less bored.

"Is she one of your wares?" Say'ri bit her tongue so hard she nearly drew blood; she was a princess, not some common...

The merchant answered for her. "She's one of the mercenaries, and you're lucky she doesn't speak very good Ylissean." Disappointed the guard continued along the line of carts. On his return he paused by Say'ri again.

"Strange thing," he commented, "but I've looked at all the guards riding your wagons, and you're the only Chon'sin in this entire group."

Damn it all-he'd noticed? "I... no understand," she replied, making sure to play up her accent. His eyes never left hers, trying to see through her lie. "In fact," he continued, "we've been told to keep an eye out for a Chon'sin. Pretty girl called Say'ri, long black hair. Just like you."

While she was still trying to give the guard the best blank face of her life the merchant scoffed. "A pretty girl with black hair? You've not been to Chon'sin mate; their hair only comes in two colours-black or brown. Naga, their prince is famous because his hair isn't either!"

The guard stared thoughtfully at Say'ri. Convinced he was going to call guards she thumbed the hilt of her blade while her mind frantically tried to think of where to run.

"You're probably right... she'd be mad to risk her neck, coming here..." sighed the guard with disappointment. Ambling back into the guardhouse he called out to someone on the battlements to open the gate and the heavy wooden doors swung open ponderously. Say'ri released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.

"Okay Miss," the lead merchant muttered once they were out of earshot of the gate, "We're heading to a tavern called the Bard's Anvil, they're expecting us. I won't lie, I'm not sure if they'll have a room for you but I'm sure we'll sort something out; the Innkeeper knows what we're about."

While they rode through the streets Say'ri watched them pass by, some cobbled and others simply packed dirt. All the streets were empty except for the odd guard, no doubt thanks to martial law, though she thought she might have saw one or two frightened faces in windows in corner of her eyes as they passed by. Clattering into the wagon-yard they drew to a halt in the middle of it, half a dozen servants and porters suddenly appearing while the mercenaries hopped off the wagons and went inside to spend some coin and get out of the rain. The lead merchant paused in following them to help Say'ri down off the cart.

"We'll get you sorted the while the workers get everything unloaded."

Following the man through the door, it was as if she's walked into a wall of noise. A bard was playing some music while the local drinkers who'd dared to come out were pushed into a corner with some merchants, soldiers of the garrison filling the rest of the tables, their eyes on the mercenaries Say'i had been traveling with instead of the small woman hiding behind a merchant. The innkeeper was a middle-aged man and, judging by the Innkeeper's gloomy face, he'd already had a long day and the arrival of the mercenaries had just made it longer. Seeing the merchant his body language subtly changed and they moved to a back room, leaving Say'ri alone. Making sure the mercenaries screened her she waited for a few minutes, head snapping round at the surprised shriek of a wench as she was pulled into the arms of one of the mercenaries. Judging by the giggles and smiles she was enjoying these new men to Walhart's garrison, and Say'ri moved her hand away from her sword. She was too damned jumpy right now...

The two men came out shortly after, and the innkeeper beckoned her to follow before the man went upstairs. As soon as the cacophony of noise died down he began to mutter bitterly at her.

"If you're who we think you are then by Naga you're a bloody idiot. They expect the Ylissean League to land at this town; every soldier in a fifty mile radius is here. Stay in your room and we should be able to keep you hidden, but if you go outside you're going to be arrested for sure." Arriving at the top of the stairs he took a candelabra before continuing along the dark, quiet hallway. At the end he pulled open a door, almost invisible amongst the woodwork of the hallway, and beckoned her to follow him up the stairs behind it.

The princess followed the silhouette outlined by candlelight. "I understand I risk you as well as myself... you have my gratitude for your aid sir," she murmured. Thank Naga she'd been lucky so far; the knowledge that it was entirely dependent upon the whims of chance was galling though. Her bother would not have been so helpless, she thought darkly to herself. Ever since she could remember he'd always had a talent for accomplishing things without any obvious effort.

Following the silhouette to the top of the stairs she realised it was actually quite short, and ended in front of an alcove with a door. "It's an old servant's room. I know its not perfect but it's out-of-the-way." Looking over his shoulder to her, Say'ri gave a nod of understanding. 'Beggars cannot be choosers' was a phrase she had heard from one of the mercenaries during their travels; and she had barely a silver coin. "It sounds ideal for my purpose sir. I thank you." Opening the door with a key, lighting a candle on the shelf above the bed, the merchant stepped aside and she nearly balked despite her words.

"I'll let you rest miss. Here's the key, I'll bring food up to you, and get you a bath sorted too perhaps later. Goodnight..." and with that he was gone in a halo of light down the stairs.

She walked in and closed the door before dropping the large cloak that concealed her lithe frame. "Fie, but this place is foul," she muttered to herself. The room was tiny, nothing but a small shelf with the lit candle and barely enough room for the bed to fit, itself in poor shape at best.

She sighed. Even if she could have risked a bigger room, she couldn't afford it. She could not risk spending money on such frivolous things anyway, not when she was in enemy territory and had to lay low with no prospects of gaining money. She was far away from Chon'sin and it's borders, but while her face would not be recognised, she would be discovered even more easily now-Chon'sin dress was not common this far into the north-east. If only these stupid people had armour that didn't weigh more than her own body...

Sitting on the bed, she released a happy sigh. Privacy and even meagre comfort this bed provided seemed wonderful after the traveling she had done these past weeks. Traveling like a commoner had been a shock to the girl, barely yet a woman; life as a roaming warrior was very different to her previous life of luxioury and comfort but to her credit (and pride) she'd adapted quickly.

Looking at the mildew on the wall, doubt started to tug at her thoughts. Ylisse was her last hope; they'd won a war against a neighbour a few years ago with a rag-tag army hastily cobbled together from what she'd managed to gather, but outside that she knew little of the army she was hoping to come. Lying on her bed, looking at the stained plaster of the ceiling, here she was, hoping for... what exactly?

"Oh Naga," she whispered. The misery of her new life, the hurt and betrayal and above all the resentment of her brother started to seeth inside her. It fueled the burning tears in her eyes but she ruthlessly stamped the despair down. Her family and swordmaster had drilled into her-and her brother-that emotions had to be kept under control, especially for royalty. If you didn't keep a clear head, you'd make stupid mistakes.

She'd already made too many, and enemies, trying to get the various rebel leaders to work together. She'd never been good at diplomacy.

The Ylisseans had to come; Walhart had suffered defeats before and he'd simply regrouped and attacked stronger than before. They had to come, she thought as she she closed her eyes. They had to...

Say'ri woke to a cloudy beam of sunlight pushing through the dirty window of her room. Thoughts foggy she sat up with a yawn, wondering just how tired she'd been while she rolled her shoulder to try and get some stiffness out of it. Just as she finished the princess realised with a grimace that she was going to be effectively a prisoner in this room until the Ylissean League arrived... but at least time was now on her side. This was the closest port for the Ylissean ships from Ferox, so the natural choice for a harbour. Walhart and his generals knew it too; if last night hadn't been enough she'd seen the lights of the army camp on the hill outside the town the previous evening. Such a strong military force along with the garrison meant the tavern keeper was right, she couldn't risk going outside, which was fine with her at the moment-she was looking forward to a rest and the tavern keeper was a member of the resistance, one of the parts she actually trusted, so she was safe for now. Probably.

Lying back on the bed, she sighed. All there was to do now was wait... and work out what on earth she was going to say to the Exalt of Ylisse.

Wait she did. For several days she languished in the dingy room, unable to walk and see the town for fear of being discovered. Though the Innkeeper was kind enough to find her a book or two to read, she had trouble reading the foreign language on the pages and after what felt like hours her head throbbed in pain. Instead she studied the map of the town he had given her, planning her route-the innkeeper providing additional information where he could; the location of the guards, and even some of the patrols. The temple to Naga had been taken over as the local command centre apparently... and the main rally point for the garrison was _there_ while roadblocks and barricades had been put up in the main street _here_...

She also used the time considered her options. The more she thought about it, the more Say'ri realised she did indeed have something for the Ylissean League-it would be dangerous but if it worked it would almost certainly unify the rebels, and strike a crushing blow to many of Walhart's men. Looking out of her window (after smudging away some of the grime,) she could see the camp squatting on the hill beyond the wall... and the large cavalry force's dust cloud from drilling on the plains. Doubt started to chew at her again-it was one thing planning but as she'd painfully learned, expectations could be shredded in the blink of an eye. Just a few years ago she'd been the youngest daughter of the Kamiya dynasty; the best she could hope for was to be married off to someone to strengthen some political bond before she was eighteen and considered too old. She had longed for her freedom, for adventure.

She'd got it too... her family, her home, and even her country had paid the price for her selfishness.

* * *

It was the fourth day that things changed. Around midday, a bell started ringing an alarm, and she could hear the muffled orders of townspeople to go into their homes. There was a quiet knocking on her door; opening it, it was the innkeeper.

"There are ships on the horizon. They aren't Walharts."

They had attacked! Finally!

"They're going to be an hour or two," the innkeeper continued, "before they arrive. Sit tight for now, I'll let you know when you should think of making a move." With that he left, closing the door behind him.

True to his word, he arrived a few hours later, but to Say'ri they felt like two years; thinking in her room for the past few days she'd thought of a plan that could make Walhart's life very difficult.

"Get your map out, miss." Taking it from her, he unrolled it and started hastily scribbling marks. "The garrison's mobilised," he explained. "You can't leave out the doors, the soldiers are everywhere now, they'd catch you before you'd be half out the door. Your window's over one of the back alleys and it isn't too high above the ground, you'll be fine if you drop down and roll."

She nodded and gathered her equipment, taking care to ensure the vellum scroll would not be lost. "Thank you for your aid sir. I hope Naga smiles upon you."

Left alone she opened the window, carefully looking for any troops along the back street; there were none in sight... there was too much noise to really make out any approaching ones. She'd just have to risk it. Climbing out, dropping down and landing lightly onto the cobblestones she hid in a doorway to check the map she'd been given.

...so she was here... the docks were over there... Walhart's forces were mostly there, and that building had been made into a barracks... so if she took _this_ route and slipped by _that_ outpost...

Very well. Putting the map away she murmured a quiet prayer to Naga before taking off in a sprint. The alarm had stopped being sounded a while ago, and with this tavern so far from the piers and beach her odds of meeting any soldiers would be low.

So of course she quite literally ran into a group around the first corner. Mercifully she managed to stay upright and avoid the man's hand grabbing for her and kept running in the general direction of the coast; she couldn't afford to risk injury or be captured, not when she was this close. Besides, they were in heavy chain mail and platemail. She'd already disappeared into an alleyway before they'd ran ten paces.

Five minutes and a dozen alleyways later she was sure she'd lost them and gave a sigh of relief. They'd be looking for her no doubt, but with the imminent landing of an entire army, one woman would not be a pressing concern for long. She hoped.

She'd managed to keep going in roughly the right direction so the smell of seawater was getting stronger too. Actually... she could see the ocean beyond, with no buildings...

'I must be close...' she mused. Cautiously approaching the end of the alleyway she peeked around the corner. It was as she feared; the promenade to the beach had been entirely cleared except for a few barricades for funneling in the Ylisseans. Looking down to the beach she almost shouted for joy-they had already disembarked and were pushing into the town! She was wondering if she could maybe risk trying to get to the Ylissean League when she heard someone yell "Stop her!" behind her.

Without thinking she broke into a full on sprint out of the alleyway and along the edge of the square waiting for an arrow to strike her. She 'd been hoping to dive into a house or street but the doors were all closed tight and the streets had soldiers or barricades. Then up ahead a knight strode out of a side street. Amongst the huge suit of armour was a small head poking out the top for a moment before a sharp nod made the visor slam home.

Say'ri didn't even consider trying to cut the man down; her sword was useless against such protection and she simply dived to the side. She'd lost her speed though, and before she realised exactly what had happened, she'd been herded into a corner, surrounded by more knights.

One approached and tried to grab her, but she ducked aside and drew her blade, catching the man on an unprotected part of his arm.

"Argh, you bitch!" he snarled, clutching his elbow, blood bubbling up between his fingers.

The princess allowed herself a small snarl of satisfaction, but everyone there knew she was in trouble. Now she had to hold out long enough for the Ylisseans to save her... so much for being a help.

The knights tried attacking her, but they clearly wanted her alive because their jabs and thrusts with the spears aimed for her legs and arms and were half-hearted at best. None of them dared approach her too closely since she'd got that lucky hit on the first knight. At least, that's what she first thought; after a while she understood why they didn't seem to care if they hit her or not; she was getting tired. There were several more knights behind the ones in front of her and they were rotating their positions. They were going to simply grind her down until she was too tired to resist.

After what felt an age, with sweat making her headband damp and heavy, hair and clothes sticking to her body, there heard the clatter of horseshoes on cobblestone. Say'ri's heart leapt into her mouth; it was Ylissean cavalry, three of them, and they were heading straight for the knights! The ones behind the line in front of her tried to reposition but it was already too late and the knights fell on the soldiers with a clash of metal. A brutal looking war hammer rose above the crowd before falling, a metallic crunch piercing through all the other noises of the fight. Seeing the hesitation in front of her she took her chance and pounced between the knights into the scrum, rolling under a horse and getting out of the fight she wouldn't be any use in. When it was over, the knights lay dead except for the two she'd dived past-they had lain down their weapons and surrendered to one of the men on horseback. One of the knights, a large man with brown hair rode his horse up to her. The horse alone was huge, making even her father's horse look like a mere foal-she didn't even come up to its shoulder and she would have sworn the ground itself shook with every hoofbeat.

"I am Sir Frederick of Ylisse, servant and officer of Exalt Chrom," the man announced in voice clearly used to being obeyed. "To whom am I speaking?" The man didn't just fill her vision; he filled his considerable armour and seemed to wear it as comfortably as a mere cloak.

"I... am Princess Say'ri of Chon'sin." His cold gaze seemed to hold her own eyes in his, demanding more. "I am the leader of the resistance fighting Walhart, Sir Frederick. I came to offer my aid to the Ylissean League." The man's stern expression did not change once during her explanation and she struggled not to squirm under his scrutinous gaze. He made her think of her old swordmaster, or one of father's older generals.

"Very well," he eventually said, apparently satisfied. He turned to the other horsemen. "Stahl, make sure Princess Say'ri gets back to our lines safely. Sully and I will regroup with Lon'qu after we get these prisoners into custody." With that, they left the knight called Stahl with her. The man gave her a friendly smile, holding out his hand as his horse drew up beside her. "Get on the back-I'll help you up."

Entering the makeshift base the Ylissean League had created, Say'ri was surprised at how quickly they'd made it. As far as she could tell they'd essentially set up in the streets and taken over buildings as required. Though since this area was the docks the buildings were all warehouses; at least they weren't having to worry about throwing out anyone living in them.

Probably why they were occupying them so readily actually.

Lining the streets were soldiers resting before going back into battle, wounded soldiers and those for whom a healer was no longer an issue traveling along the streets, into or out of buildings. Her gaze rested on a young woman amongst the soldiers, sitting against a wall tapping her foot impatiently; she couldn't have been more than eighteen at best but the twin-tailed girl was easily as tall as most Chon'sin men; if those muscles rippling like water under her skin were any indication, she was stronger too. By the girl's side were a worn (but well maintained) sword and shield. Realising she was being watched she caught the Chon'sin woman's gaze and glowered defiantly, daring her to say something before she noticed who Say'i was riding with.

"Who's that daddy?" she called out. Stopping, Sir Stahl turned and Say'ri saw the man's face light up. "Severa," he cried out, directing the horse over to the girl and dismounting, "What are you doing here?" he asked.

'Daddy?' Say'ri wondered. 'The maiden does not seem that much older than him!' She must have misheard... though... looking between them, she could certainly see the resemblance. 'Daddy' must mean brother or even cousin, clearly. She had never been very good at Ylissean.

"Got hit by an arrow," the girl mumbled sullenly. "I-it's fine!" she hurriedly added as she stood, seeing the fear on the man's face. The girl reached Sir Stahl's shoulders, Say'ri noted. "Brady and Aunt Mirabelle were there and healed me. I got sent back here to rest a bit, that's all," she muttered, clearly unhappy at the idea. Leaning down Stahl stroked Severa's cheek with the back of a finger. "I know you want to get back to your friends, but please wait until you're called up." He suddenly pulled her into a hug-in public no less! "Your mother will kill me if you don't."

"Oh shut up! Like I care what you or mother think!" Severa snapped, failing to keep the smile off her face while she returned the embrace. Sir Stahl had clearly been expecting such a response because his smile just widened at such breathtaking disrespect, and he hugged even harder. "I love you too, Severa."

"Sh-shut up," she blushed, "Don't you have something to do?" Stahl gave a start. "Oh, you're right," he laughed. "I'd better get Lady Say'ri to the boss."

Say'ri and Stahl continued, the princess's confused thoughts keeping her occupied. They entered another street and the men thinned, replaced with the distant cacophony of battle further down. Soldiers were resting just behind the battle line she could see up ahead, but before them were a small group and before even them two Pegasus riders, one dismounted and lying on a large shipping crate. The one still mounted, a woman with long flowing red hair was hovering near the dismounted Pegasus rider who was being seen to by a blonde girl with a healing staff, the gemstone mounted glowing brightly.

"Is she going to be okay Lissa?" The blond girl nodded.

"It's was a nasty gash Cordelia but I've already nea-finished!" The light faded from the gem and the injured Pegasus ride sat up while the redhead sighed with relief. "Thank goodness for that. You need to be more careful Sumia," she chastised the now recovered Pegasus rider, already pulling her armour back into place. "How do you think Lord Chrom or Lucina or Cynthia would react if you got killed?"

"Lucina was in danger," the Pegasus rider shot back, steel in her voice. "I absolutely refuse to apologize."

"Hey," Lady Cordelia held up her hands, "I'm not having a go at you Sumia-if it had been Severa I'd have done the same thing. Just... be more careful, please?" The grey haired woman sighed.

"Very well Cordelia, I'll try and be more careful." Whatever Cordelia was going to say was lost, for she'd seen Stahl and Say'ri out of the corner of her eye. "Stahl, my love!"

Say'ri blinked. She'd definitely understood _that _word-and even if she hadn't, the way Cordelia guided her Pegasus over to them and the way she kissed (in public again!) Stahl made it's meaning _very _clear.

When they finally came up for air Cordelia noticed Say'ri. "Who is this Stahl?" the Pegasus rider asked, curiosity in her voice and her eyes as she examined the unusual clothing.

"Oh, sorry Cordelia; this is Princess Say'ri of Cho'sin"

"Chon'sin," Say'ri corrected. Stahl gave a small laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry princess Say'ri. I'm not too good with new names. It'll settle eventually but I might keep getting it wrong until then..." He gave a quiet exclamation as he remembered something. "I met Severa on the way here."

Worry immediately flooded Cordelia's face. "That street-you came through the wounded! Is she alright? Is she hurt?" Stahl gave took her hand in his own and made a soothing noise. "She's fine. Just resting a bit before going back to the front. Pretty impatient about it actually," he chuckled.

Mollified, the redhead visibly relaxed. Look between the two, Say'ri could certainly see the resemblance to Severa; she had Cordelia's eyes and nose, her father's hair colour... it didn't really make sense.

"Cordelia, we need to get going!" The other Pegasus rider called out to the three of them.

Cordelia immediately straightened in her saddle, as if someone had turned a switch-she was all business. "Right you are Sumia!" Turning to Stahl again, she gave him a brief peck on the cheek. "See you soon, husband of mine," she giggled, as if the phrase was still new. With that, she was galloping down the road before taking to the air and to the fight with Sumia, past the rubble of a half collapsed building some men were sitting on. Two were standing-one hunched over what would be crates normally, but were currently a makeshift table; they wore a tactician's robes. Say'ri had to make a conscious effort not to grit her teeth-not every tactician was like the disgusting creature Excelius she'd seen while fleeing her home. One of the men turned to address the tactician and Say'ri gasped-he had the Brand on his bicep, it was Exalt Chrom himself!

"Hey guys, I have someone to meet you!" Stahl called out as they approached. Say'ri winced at the casual disrespect he addressed his ruler with, though neither the Exalt or others seemed to care. Turning to face the approaching pair the men paused for a moment, seeing the woman in front of them while Say'ri saw the men she was gambling everything on.

The Exalt looked almost as she imagined-rugged, handsome and muscular, the legendary Falchion by his side. There was a tall archer which Say'ri first thought was a mere messenger before she noticed his bearing and the quality of his equipment-he was certainly noble, she was sure of it.

The tactician was... not like she'd imagined. Excellius was a greasy fat ball of filth, the tacticians of the Imperial Court had been old men; generals now too old to fight. This tactician was young, broad and tall, notably taller than anyone else in the group which was saying something; Severa wouldn't come up to his shoulders. Say'ri was shorter than Lord Virion, the smallest of the four men, by an entire head. The tactician's robe was loose and hid his shape from behind but now he was standing facing her, she could see the man was actually muscular with a clean scar from a blade on his face. Parts of his robe were scorched and a breastplate was now revealed under the robe that had marks and dents from blows. This was not a tactician that cowered behind lines like that viper Excellius. His eyes met hers for a moment and she thought she'd seen excitement before he lowered his gaze to her armour, then her sword, before returning to her face and armour, the look gone.

"Greetings," the Exalt spoke, unnoticing or uncaring of his tactician's gazing. "I am Prince Chrom, ruler of Ylisse. This my Tactician, Robin, and this gentlemen," he gestured to the archer, "is Lord Virion of house Virion. Khan Basilio and Khan Flavia would greet you, but they're in the front lines with our men." His voice clearly made it clear he wished was there as well.

"I take it our detachment managed to rescue you Lady...?" Robin asked, eyes still flicked to her armour and sword, as if trying to look at all of her at once.

"Say'ri, sir. Princess Say'ri of Chon'sin," she introduced herself, dismounting. "You have my gratitude for your timely rescue of me sirs," she continued, ignoring tactician's borderline ogling. They way he was looking over her made her feel uncomfortable until she glanced at him again. The look in his eyes was not of want like she had seen in other men. What on earth was he so fascinated by...?" She saw his eyes linger on a shoulder guard.

Of course. He had never seen such clothing before... The others too were clearly curious of her attire. Realising it was not want but curiosity that drew such looks she felt herself relax.

"I am the leader of the resistance against Walhart, and this..." Withdrawing the folded vellum, she handed it to the Exalt, "is a map of the town M'ilord. The local resistance drafted it for you, so it should be accurate."

The Exalt immediately passed it to Robin. Unfolding it he turned to compare it to what Say'ri realised was another larger, far less complete map spread out on the crates. In the corner of her eye she saw Lord Virion look it over as well and nod at the tactician. Satisfied it matched what parts they did have, he placed it on a corner of the old map, adding lines and symbols onto his map.

"Thanks for this," the man mumbled, hunched over the crate. "This is going to make things much easier. Do you know how many men they have?" Say'ri suddenly felt rather self conscious. "I... am afraid I was not able to get a chance to discover such a thing." For all her talk of being the leader of the rebels, she was suddenly aware just how little she'd really managed under their gazes.

"If my memories serve Robin," Virion interjected, drawing attention away from the young woman, "I believe this town was not especially wealthy, and gained much of it's food from fishing. The surrounding area could not support a significantly large force, no more than perhaps thirty thousand?"

"They have many horses," Say'ri added, desperate to prove useful. "I fear they have not yet been deployed." None of the men seemed perturbed by her information though.

"The commander here seems to want to try and crush us. With all the barricades in the streets and our knights at the vanguard the town is suicide for them. They'll try to wrap up our flank along the beach. Cut us off from our ships and reinforcements, wipe us out entirely," Robin called out, not even looking up from the map. "That's okay though; we're expecting that."

"How?" Say'ri asked in astonishment. "How could you know of the cavalry? The camp cannot be seen from the coast."

"It's been a dry week," was the calm reply she received. "Nothing else could kick up so much dust," explained the man as he waved an arm vaguely in the direction of a large cloud beyond the town.

The tactician paused in copying Say'ri's map.

"Stahl, Henry's two streets away here," he pointed to a line on the map. "Round him up along with a platoon of knights. Get them over to here," another pointed finger, this time at a building Say'ri's map had marked as a fortified position. He held out book-a red tome with the arcane symbol for fire, Say'ri believed. "We need to get that position removed as soon as we can."

"Forgive my bluntness princess," the Exalt began, "but I can't think of a polite way to ask; how good are you with your sword?"

Say'ri's first instinct was to be indignant but... he was asking a perfectly reasonable question. "I was trained by the greatest swordmaster of Chon'sin. However..." she couldn't hide her unease. "Fie... I was a good student but have only truly fought these past few months, sirs. I have seen off bandits with little difficulty and indeed, some soldiers."

"Good enough," the tactician interjected. "Honestly princess, you've seen more combat than some of the Shepards when we first recruited them," he continued, still looking at the map. "Your combat style doesn't rely on thrusts; there's a much bigger emphasis on slashing, correct?"

"That is correct." He gave a nod and rolled the small vellum map up before folding it and stuffing it into a backpack by his foot.

"Right. That settles it then. Chrom, Virion, It looks like the commander is stationed over where Lucina and Kjelle are. You help them push there, the sooner we decapitate their command the faster the defenses will crumble. Princess Say'ri?"

"Just call me Say'ri, sir" she corrected. "Because of Walhart I am with effect, of no country now," she sighed. As much as she hated it, it was time to start looking facts in the face. He had the decency to look abashed for a moment at least.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Say'ri. You'll be with me for this battle; I'll be able to see how you fight for my future plans, and I'll be able to handle any heavily armoured foes like those knights that cornered you before."

The show of trust filled her heart. "Fie, you would trust me so gladly?" She looked from face to face, looking for any trace of humour or malice. She found none.

"I found Robin unconscious in a field," Chrom explained while Robin pulled a yellow backed tome out of a satchel by his foot. "We have a Plegian dark mage we recruited in the middle of a battle against them, a thief they were employing... and honestly, everything I've heard of Walhart and seen of his army makes me think he's not a particularly subtle man."

"Enough talk, we're better serving at the front now," Chrom declared. "Let's get there."

* * *

Fighting in an army with heavy infantry was not as Say'ri had expected. She'd expected close formations, clashing and then almost shoving until one gave up, a sort of order to it. The reality was far less romantic. It was a cacophony of indistinguishable cries, utter chaos. Her sword's length meant it was impossible to be too close to anyone, there was even more blood and gore than she could imagine and she nearly slipped in it several times. As for organised formations, the urban enviroment had murdered any prospect of those beyond the heavily armoured knights of the Ylissean League trying to protect mages from archers, who were desperately trying to stop them flushing the defending forces out of buildings or off barricades with fire magic, the Ylissean League using longbows on their own archers with winds from their mages to ensure they outranged the Valmese archers. Tha meant they could provide suppressive fire with impunity. Whoever had been in charge of the cavalry had indeed tried to flank attack along the beach; she'd heard the dying screams of the horses from even this distance and amongst all the noise as she fought with Robin by her side.

Working with the tactician was proving to be productive. The soldiers she fought were well trained, but she had been trained by the greatest her country could produce, and she could feel eyes on her back as she fought them. As for foes she couldn't deal with-archers, mages or heavily armoured knights, lightning would arc over her by and fell Robin's target. It was really quite simple; if she kept Robin safe, he would keep her safe.

It was approaching late afternoon when from her left there was a triumphant roar; resting just behind the front line with Robin, out of immediate danger, she risked a look just in time to see a horse rear, throwing someone in an officer's uniform of Walhart's army off into a group of Ylissean soldiers.

"And that's their commander," Robin purred in satisfaction behind her. "Now we've got them."

* * *

By the time the night had finally fallen, the battle was well and truly over; without the organisation and resolve of their leader the enemy had crumbled, pockets of resistance captured or killed and the Ylissean League had the entire town-even the enemy camp. Seen as liberators, the townspeople had opened their doors and offered what meagre things they had for celebration. The Exalt had indulged it; the campaign would only get worse after this.

Say'ri and Robin had regrouped with the Exalt and the Shepards; they'd set up a fire in the town square, and over it was part of a horse from the ill-fated cavalry charge roasting, the group sitting around the large fire chatting, laughing and joking. Say'ri wasn't entirely sure about horse for a meal, but the Ylissean league was clearly looking forward to fresh meat. Besides it eased the burden of their supplies, if for a night. She tried to not think about it, and instead enjoyed the dancer entertaining the crowd-she'd never seen anything so energetic performed in the palace (or in such scandalous 'clothing') but the woman's grace was undeniable. As she watched Say'ri sat between Robin and Virion, both offering insights and explanations to her questions of the alien culture she was surrounded by. Arriving from elsewhere, Chrom and came over to greet them, Sir Frederick by his side.

"I just got back from visiting some of the wounded. How was the fighting for you?"

"Nothing Say'ri and I couldn't handle," Robin smiled, standing to embrace his friend. "She wasn't exaggerating about her tutor; I think she'll give Lon'qu a run for his money with a bit more combat experience."

"Really," Chrom exclaimed, eyes widening. Looking to Say'ri, he explained. "Lon'qu is our best swordsman in the Shepherds." Say'ri give him a blank look. "The 'Shepards'?"

"I believe the closest equivalent in Chon'sin would be the Immortals," Virion added.

The Immortals? Father's hand-picked squad? "I... see..." Say'ri mumbled. She had to voice what she suspected. "You wish me to join?"

"You don't have to," Chrom explained.

"I'd recommend it though," Robin butted in. "I know you're a princess Say'ri, but it would give you an official place in the army. Shepards only answer to Chrom, and we get a good wage. You can leave any time you want, but I don't think it's too much of a leap to say you intend to stay for the campaign?"

Say'ri nodded. "Aye, that I do sirs." She'd managed nothing with the resistance groups-she doubted her odds were much worse with the Ylissean League. A princess actually working for a wage though...? Pride tried to rail against such a thing but pragmatism grabbed it by the throat and beat it into submission. "I... will need to think, sirs," she mumbled, already knowing her answer deep inside.

Chrom nodded patiently. "We intend to move in a few days, once we've got the army organised after the landing and we decide our next move. I'll need an answer from you then Say'ri."

"Then have my answer you shall Exalt."

"Just call me Chrom. Everyone does."

He allowed such disrespect? "I... fie, very well... Chrom." She was not in Chon'sin anymore; if that's how it was done in Ylisse...

Looking amongst the Shepards she realised just _how _varied they were... there was a wyvern and what was clearly her rider, there was a boy, barely a teenager, a teenager with a pot on his head. She recognised some of them; there was the blonde girl and steel haired woman. In fact, Say'ri realised, Stahl and Cordelia was there, as was the girl Severa between them. She'd forgotten to ask about that, she'd have to inquire. Later. Not in front of everyone, in case it was a source of embarrassment. If it was though, why would the three be sitting openly together, why would they be showering such obvious affection onto the girl...? Say'ri's mind threw it's hands up into the air-she'd worry about that later.

Her attention (and Robin's) was grabbed by a skinny girl with some papers walking up to the crate they were perching on, calling his name. Looking to her he smiled and hopped off the crate. "Hello Noire. These are the quartermaster's lists?" Handing them over, Noire gave him a small smile and a nod. Quickly skimming the lists, he paused. "...Noire, where's Morgan? I sent the two of you to do this? Did she just dump it all on you?" Robin asked the frail looking girl. She looked at him with watery eyes and sniffed as she shook her head. "Sh-she should be along shortly Robin. She saw Lucina on the way back and wanted to ask her something..."

"Oh, that's okay then." He went back to the list. "I didn't think she would, do it deliberately, I mean... but I know how easily distracted she can get..."

"So unlike you," Chrom suggested. Robin didn't even look up from the inventory. "Oh shut up."

Say'ri was going to take a little time getting used to Ylissean culture-things were clearly very different. Her father could have executed anyone for saying such a thing to him, would have if such a thing had been said in public.

"Father!" a voice called out as if on cue. Robin didn't look up though; Say'ri did and saw two young women-well, one young woman with a regal, elegant bearing and a teenager on the cusp of womanhood, black hair cut short like a boys and in a tactician's robe identical to Robin's. The woman had been the one to call out, a beautiful young woman, with hair the exact same colour as the Exalt, whom immediately walked over to her and embraced her. "Lucina," he smiled. Hair wasn't the only thing she had in common though...

"You... you have the Falchion!" Walking over to get a closer look, there was no mistake-on her side was indeed Falchion... right next to... the... Falchion... by the Exalt's side.

A second Falchion.

"I... how?" was all she could manage to mumble, looking bewilderedly from the Exalt to the young woman who looked so like her.

"She's his daughter," the girl in the tactician's robe said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She's got the brand in her left eye too." Indeed, looking at the young woman in front of her Say'ri realised it was not just the hair and sword they shared. Or even the brand, just visible in the light of the nearby fire and torches lighting the streets. Lucina was as if Chrom had been born a girl...

"You... you're almost as old as he is," she managed to get out, feeling utterly bewildered. "How...?"

"I know this sounds implausible Say'ri," Chrom began. "but Lucina, along with other children of the Shepards, traveled back through time.

"Time travel?" Say'ri repeated. "How is such a thing possible?" Had Walhart had proven to be even stronger than she'd feared? Lucina chose to answer this for her. "In the future, a gemstone of the Fire Emblem was lost. With only four, Naga couldn't perform the awakening ritual to stop Grima, she could only send us back in time."

"Grima... the fell dragon the Hero-King Marth slew?"

"Apparently the rumours of Grimas demise were great exaggerated," Chrom joked mirthlessly. "He awoke about ten years after the war with Walhart, but one of the five gemstones was lost in the war against Wahart and he couldn't be stopped without the awakening of Falchion."

"We could return to the past though, to stop him from being reborn in the first place," Lucina continued. "The results have been... mixed..."

Say'ri heart clenched in sympathy. Word of Exalt Emmeryn's sacrifice had made it even as far as Chon'sin. "What you say is so outlandish to beggar belief," was what she could managed to say in the end. "Fie, the truth stands before me though; two Falchions." Ignoring the twin blades, even the brands, the girl did look like Chrom; and to openly acknowledge this woman as his daughter would cause so many problems with the throne...

"She's already been born too," the little girl piped up, interrupting her thoughts. "Lucina's back in Ylisse as a baby as well."

Say'ri gave the girl a neutral look, wondering if she was being mocked by this child. All she got was a friendly smile, no trace of any mocking in those big innocent brown eyes.

"Oh, that's right," the girl started, "you don't know my name! It's Morgan," the girl laughed giving a quick, small bow before scratching the back of her head, giggling. Say'ri felt a smile tug at her lips; the girl's happiness and enthusiasm was infectious. "I am Say'ri, Morgan. It is a pleasure to meet you." Quickly going over what she'd just been told, Morgan's age, robe and easy-going manner gave a suspicion. "You are one of the future children?"

"Yeah! ...wait, how did you know? No-one's told you?" she puzzled, head tilting with confusion in a most adorable way. Say'ri felt her smile grow a bit.

"You wear a tactician's robe like Robin's." She'd been mistaken; it wasn't identical to Robins, it had a silk lining.

Morgan slapped a hand to her head. "Oh, of course. Silly me," she chuckled, giving a mock punch to her head. "That would make it easy to work out I'm..." horror flashed over her face. "Oh no! I left Noire with the list! I'd better go! Bye Say'ri!" With that she dashed off to her father's side without even waiting for her reply.

"Yes, she's always like that," Chrom chuckled, Lucina smiling slightly herself. Say'ri just shook her head and, with a bow, returned to the campfire where Robin and Noire were soothing a worried Morgan, something easily done with both her father and Noire. Sitting down next to father (Say'ri being on the other) he pulled Morgan in for hug with one arm.

"What did you want to ask Lucina anyway?" he smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately.

While Morgan gave her answer, Say'ri looked on enviously. Her father had never done that with herself or her brother... then again, even a married couple would seldom embrace in public. Waiting for an opportunity, she seized it when father and daughter had stopped hugging. "Robin... I would like to be with you tomorrow."

The surprised look, with a hint of scandal warned her she'd made a mistake. Running over what she'd just said, she mentally winced and a flush crept up her neck. Thrice damn her poor Ylissean...

"I am sorry. I mean I have questions of Ylisse, and I... I may have an idea that will help us with Walhart." Robin's expression became more understanding. "Oh... sure thing Say'ri. I'll need to take care of some things in the morning, but I can talk to you in the afternoon; I'll need to anyway, I need to discuss your abilities."

Seeing the blank look, he tried again. "I want to know what you can do."

"Ah, how I may aid our cause out of battle?"

"Exactly that, Say'ri."

"Very well then, Robin. We shall meet the morrow."

With that, she sat there and talked with the others, questions about Ylisse and Ferox asked and answered, Robin asking her much of Chon'sin. Despite the war that had claimed it Say'ri found herself smiling as she talked of home, and for one night Say'ri forgot about the war, her brother, or even she was a princess. Eventually it was time to sleep though, and after her meal (horse meat wasn't as bad as she'd expected) and all the conversation she was looking forward to it. Robin and Morgan escorted to her one of the buildings in the square.

"This was being used as one of the barracks," Robin explained as he stepped into the doorway past a pair of sentries. "You're using my bed," he continued, leading them down through the atrium and up the stairs. "I already accepted Virion's offer to bunk up with him."

She was to sleep in his... "I... thank you, Robin," Say'ri mumbled.

"Don't worry about it, we'll get you something more permanent sorted tomorrow."

Stopping in front of a door he produced a key from his robe, opened the door, and stepped aside, handing the key to Say'ri. "See you tomorrow Say'ri," he murmured with a nod of his head before leaving, presumably to his own bed.

"G'night Say'ri," Morgan added happily, scampering after her father. She watched them leave a moment before she entered Robin's room, the candles already lit, locked the door behind her, and looked at the tactician's room.

...goodness. She's expected dozens of scroll cases and many chests like she had seen in the old Tactician's chamber of her home, but here... all Robin seemed to have was a large backpack, three-albiet large-scroll cases and what appeared to be an equipment chest, peering into the open container. Drawn to the unrolled paper on the room's table, Say'ri discovered someone had put a map of Valm on the desk, the town they were in marked.

She found her fingers tracing the borders of Chon'sin, taking in just how much Walhart had conquered and doubt chewed at her before she squashed it once again. She had chosen her path. She was... thinking of Yen-Fay, she bit back the tears. She was the leader of her people and the resistance. Leaders did not regret. Leaders could not regret. Leaders were unable to have such... luxury.

She held onto that thought as she blew out most of the candles, undressed, and climbed into bed. She had a long day tomorrow, regret and remorse would accomplish nothing.

She blew out the candle on her nightstand, and rolled over to sleep.

* * *

The exhaustion of yesterday had tired out Say'ri more than she expected. When she woke up it was to banging and the faint noise of men and women moving and talking outside. The beam of light piercing the gloom of the room from the solitary small window the room had was at a steep angle. She'd slept in.

There was knocking at her door, what must have woken her up. "Hey, come on," a girl's voice whined. "I wanna eat!"

With a curse the princess sat up to arrange her thoughts and discoveries from last night as she dressed. "I am coming," she called out, hurrying to bind herself and pull her armour on. Opening the door to leave she found the girl from yesterday, the one with blonde hair, in front of her. "Hi, I'm Lissa," she smiled, holding her hand out. This time Say'ri immediately took it in her own for a shake. "Robin asked me to wake you up," Lissa giggled. "It's breakfast time, so let's go eat!"

Once she'd dressed and made sure to lock the door behind her, she followed the young woman downstairs into the large atrium, ignoring the curious looks from some of the soldiers around she stepped out of the cool air of the building into the summer morning's sun, it's warmth already suggesting another hot day, she couldn't stop the sigh from her lips.

"Uh oh, I recognize that from my brother," the girl remarked. "What's up Say'ri?"

Say'ri had to remind herself that she was in a different culture, with different standards to soothe annoyance at the girl's informality. "Just... fie, just wondering what the future holds."

"Oh." The blonde looked thoughtful, if not slightly downcast. The sudden serious demeanour didn't suit the girl and is if hearing her thoughts, Lissa brightened. "We'll be fine. Robin and Chrom are awesome together! Worry about what we're having for breakfast!"

With a small laugh and a quirk of her lips, Say'ri found herself agreeing with the girl's unspoken wisdom-she had made her choice; there was no point worrying what would happen. "Then lead on Lissa," she chuckled.

She could smell the horsemeat before she entered the warehouse on the docks. Entering the large door designed for carts she saw lines of benches set up for breakfast. Getting into the que with her Lissa wrinkled her nose. "I'm getting porridge," she mumbled to her charge. "We've always got porridge but they add stuff to it. Sometimes meat and herbs and stock, or dried fruit, or all of that, but since it's summer we might get some of the fresh fruit from around here maybe. Virion mentioned apples are produced around in this region..."

Porridge sounded quite appetising actually, she'd got a bit of a taste for it during her travels. At least, until she smelt another meat amongst the horse. "Lissa... what's that smell? What type of meat is that? It smells wonderful!"

Lissa looked like she'd grown another head. "Bear."

* * *

Ten minutes later Say'ri was seated next to Lissa, happily eating hot bear sandwiches, melted butter dribbling between the slices of bread. Lissa, for her part, was watching the woman by her side with a mixture of unease and awe.

"You... really enjoy that...?"

Swallowing back the bite in her mouth Say'ri could only look upon Lissa with confusion. "You don't?"

Lissa feebly shook her head, going back to her porridge and apple cause.

Say'ri was on her last sandwich when Robin sat next to her, bear sandwiches on his plate too. He didn't even greet the two, he simply wolfed down his first before noticing Say'ri in the corner of his eye. Mouth still full he have a grunt and a small wave, swallowed, and finally said "Good morning."

Ignoring the urge to wrinkle her nose Say'ri smiled back. "Good morning to you, Robin." She was probably not much better in appearance she suspected, reaching into her robe and withdrawing his key. "What possessions I have are still in your room I am afraid, however here is your key." He took the key with a smile and dropped it into one of his large pockets.

"Thank you Say'ri. I've got a little something for you planned this morning. After breakfast I want you to spar with our best swordsman, Lon'qu." He pointed to a tall, handsome man several tables away. "I want to see what you can do against someone who really knows what they're doing."

Ignoring the unintentional slight, Say'ri nodded; it made sense. As she looked back from Lon'qu she picked out Morgan, who'd just finished getting a bowl of porridge and left the que, coming towards them. She gave her a wave and the girl visibly brightened. Say'ri saw Robin look in the side of her vision and waved too.

"Fie, Morgan is adorable."

"Yeah..." the man laughed. "She's a good tactician too," he smiled, pride in his voice and love on his face when he turned to Say'ri. "I just wish-" there was a clatter on the cobblestones and cry of anguished pain.

"Morgan!" he yelled, getting up and running over to the girl, Lissa and Say'ri following. Morgan had dropped her bowl and was on her knees, skin pale and sheeted with a cold sweat, eyes staring unseeing at the floor while clutching her head in pain.

"I... father... my head," she managed to whimper, rolling onto her side and curling up, keening quietly with pain. Robin looked up to the blond girl. "Lissa?"

Pulling back Morgan's eyelid for a moment, holding her hand to her neck, she shook her head. "I don't know. Her pulse is normal, her pupils are dilating... has she eaten Kjelle's cooking or something?"

"She's not been on kitchen duty since that time."

"We'd better get her to the healer tents and Maribelle." Scooping her up into his arms, Robin immediately hurried away with her, Lissa in tow abandoning Say'ri.

Standing there, unsure what to do, Say'ri felt the curious eyes on her and heard the whispering. She ignored it, kneeling down to clear the broken pottery. Once she'd handed it over to one of the cooks to be disposed of, she wondered what to do-she'd eaten, but she'd not managed to find work to occupy herself. Part of her wanted to head straight to the medical tent and see how Morgan was, but propriety squashed the urge; it was none of her business. Eventually she decided to head to the exercise area to see how the Ylissean league fought while she digested her breakfast.

Assuming she'd find it...

* * *

She'd had the sense to ask a soldier for directions the moment she realised she'd become lost, so it took her less than twenty minutes in all. The training ground had been set up in the now cleared Valmese camp, allowing the soldiers space to train, and fortifications to protect them.

Axes were very popular. Her people seldom used them used them, not nearly as heavily as the League's soldiers seemed to. She found a line of crates drawn up for an improvised bench, perched on the corner, and watched Sir Frederick train a group of (clearly inexperienced) footmen. The way he mercilessly forced the best from them made her think of her old swordmaster, and she felt herself smiling. What would he think of her now? Or Yen-fay?

She did not know how much time passed, but her attention was broken when Robin stepped in front of her before sitting heavily on the crate next to her. His shoulders were slumped and worry marked every feature of his person. Say'ri began to ask if Morgan was well, but caught herself; Robin's body language answered her.

"Morgan is... not better?"

He managed a vague shrug.

"It's not poison," he mumbled. "Or a fever. It's... I don't know. She just fainted, as far as the healers can tell. I don't know..." he trailed off.

"How is her mother?" Seeing the tactician still, Say'ri mentally kicked her self-Morgan's mother had not been mentioned, let alone seen, once. What if she was dead or worse, dishonorable?

"...I don't know who she is." He mumbled wretchedly.

Oh. Robin had not struck her as such a... wait. Morgan was from the future; she was noticeably younger than Lucina...

"You... Morgan is from the future. Have you not met her mother yet?"

The shake of his head confirmed it. "I'm still single," he mumbled absently. She couldn't think of anything to say so she didn't; they just sat there want watched Frederick make the young men in front of him suffer.

"He seems a strict man," Say'ri eventually murmured. Perhaps she could distract him from his daughter's condition for a while? Robin smiled.

"He's a very kind man at heart. You're right though, he is strict. You'll find that out in his fitness hour."

"Fitness hour? Fie, I am sorry Robin, but my Ylissean... what do you mean?"

"He trains the Shepards like those recruits for an hour every day," he chuckled. An hour like that...? Well, she had thought of trying to become stronger...

"Not everyone enjoys it as you can imagine," Robin continued. "Ricken and Vaike especially comp-oh, hello Lon'qu-how long have you been there?" As Robin stood, Say'ri followed, stepping to his side so they could both see the man. Lon'qu was an intimidating sight. He was tall, though once again not as tall as Robin, to whom Say'ri came up to his chest. He was lithe but very muscular and Say'ri was not ashamed to confess, handsome. Virion was by his side and bowed to her.

"I heard from Lon'qu of Morgan. I hope she's alright Robin," he said, concern radiating off him. Robin managed a stiff shrug. "She's with Maribelle and Lissa."

Virion visibly brightened. "Then she is in the safest of hands! Such a charming girl, attend to by such lovelies-"

"You needed me for something, Robin," Lon'qu interrupted, sensing a monologue. Virion's annoyance at being interrupted was gone when he heard Robin's words.

"I want you to spar with Say'ri," he said, gesturing to the woman next to him. Say'ri immediately noticed the way he tensed. That did not please him for some reason but to his credit as a soldier, he simply nodded and walked over to the training rack, selected a wooden sword and made his way to a clear part of the training grounds. Say'ri followed, pausing at the rack; her sword was not something they had a training weapon for... eventually, she settled on what appeared to be a short spear. It was slightly too small, it lacked the curve of her blade, but it would do.

"Best of three." He barked out as she stepped into the training space. Say'ri could feel the unease start to spread through her body like a poison. The way he held the training sword in his hand unthinking, as if it was just part of his body, every movement slow and precise, muscles flexing with every move, and above all else the way his body radiated total focus and confidence reminded the woman of her swordmaster. Lon'qu made Say'ri think of a cat... and feel like a mouse.

She gave a deep bow as her teacher had taught her to do so before settling into an opening stance. Lon'qu stared for a moment, analyzing, before settling into his own.

Then she attacked.

* * *

Robin and Virion looked on. It was fascinating; Lon'qu, nearly two feet taller than Say'ri, performed thrusts and swings that, coupled with the weight of his larger, heavier sword, relied on power. Say'ri rarely thrust, instead relying on fast slashes, favouring raw speed that the Feroxian couldn't match and she kept quickly changing stances to keep him off guard. Chrom and Lon'qu's combat styles clearly had the same origin but diverged into two different styles. The way Say'ri moved, changed stances, handled the makeshift sword, were entirely different to Lon'qu and Chrom.

"What do you know about Chon'sin Virion?" The man by Robin's side gave an elegant shrug.

"I am afraid I know little of the country my friend. It is not a neighbour of our lands and from what I heard, kept to itself. I visited it once, however that was as a young boy with my father to what I believe was a minor noble." The archer couldn't help smiling at Robin's disappointed look. "I can tell you it's cotton has a reputation for good quality, and it is one of the largest silk producers of the continent," he added. "Though, considering how rare such a thing is, that says little."

Robin looked thoughtfully back to Say'ri, both men uncaring of the crowd gathering to watch the two swordmasters duel.

Say'ri dodged a blow that Lon'qu had clearly expected to connect judging by the momentary surprise on his face. The counter-strike Say'ri launched only managed to strike his wooden sword however; he'd been expecting that riposte. "That was not what you were asking for though my friend," Virion continued with a smile. "The Chon'sin imperial family does have a daughter as well as a son I believe, though I am sorry to say I never met her before I was forced to flee. I do not even know the beauty's name."

"Is Say'ri's dress Chon'sin?"

"Absolutely." Virion's confidence in his voice matched the speed of his reply. "Outside of paintings and woodcarvings, I have only seen Chon'sin clothing once before but I assure you my friend, I could never forget how different its clothing was to other people's."

Robin had that thoughtful look in his eyes again. Virion was going to verbally poke him to see what he was thinking, but he was denied the chance when Maribelle appeared.

"Morgan is perfectly fine Robin, she just appears to have fainted," she sniffed. "Now if you would kindly take her to her room we could use the bed she's currently occupying for someone who needs it." Before either man could say anything she'd flounced off.

Robin and Virion shared a knowing smirk; despite her haughtiness, Maribelle was a real Mother Hen; they'd both heard the relief in her voice.

An appreciative murmur from the crowd drew their attention back to the sparring; Say'ri had managed to slip past Lon'qu's training sword and score the first point. Say'ri had a coy look of triumph on her face; Lon'qu looked shaken, though the two men suspected it because Say'ri was close to him as much she had bested him.

Returning to their starting points, the warriors settled back into their stances. And began again.

* * *

It was Lon'qu who eventually won the second and third rounds-his combat experience and raw strength too much for Say'ri's speed. Forcing her to block a blow in the final round she was put off balance, had her leg kicked out from under her and been forced onto one knee, his practice blade sweeping down and only coming to a dead stop just before it shattered her shoulder. If it had been a real blade, a real fight, he'd have cleaved her from shoulder to hip.

She was forced to conceded defeat. "Fie, it was no mere jest when Robin said you were the greatest swordsman in the army," she complained while she stood, noting he immediately put several feet distance from her.

"Few people have caught me off-guard like you did in the first round," Lon'qu managed to say. "You will be very dangerous on the battlefield. Your master would be proud."

"Thank you sir," she bowed. He was better than her, but that wasn't the only thing she'd learned. "You... you seemed to know some of my techniques. Have you fought someone from Chon'sin, Lon'qu?"

"...No."

That was wrong. "I believe you are mistaken. You knew some of my techniques that are of Chon'sin; your blade was already moving to parry blows that I had barely begun."

Lon'qu suddenly looked very uncomfortable. He began to speak but stopped, thinking for a few moments. "It... is not my place to say," the Feroxian finally explained. "I must wash, I'm sweaty," he blurted out immediately after, leaving a puzzled woman alone in the training area before she realised how her hair was sticking to her neck and decided to follow his example. As she left the centre of the square Virion approached, clapping.

"My word! Lady Say'ri, you were magnificent to watch! Such grace! Such elegance! Such skill! I've only seen only a few people give Lon'qu such difficulty! Watching you I thought to myself, 'I see what Robin meant about Say'ri last night'," Virion continued, gesturing excitedly with his hands, "She is quite the handful for Lon'qu."

"He defeated me quite handily," She reproached.

"No-one has lasted as long against him sparring though," Virion parried. "You scored a point against him too! Few of the Shepards have done so, and they are familiar with how he fights!"

Somehow Say'ri could tell he was being sincere, and she couldn't help smile. After everything she'd endured, it was pleasant to have her ego stroked so. "Thank you Lord Virion." Then she noticed something.

"Where is Robin? I thought he wished to see how I fought?" She couldn't help but feel disappointment. She'd been hoping to impress such an influential and powerful man. If he could see the strength in her as a fighter, perhaps he would be more willing to trust her, but it seemed he couldn't even be bothered to see her prove herself.

"Mirabelle, the lady taking care of Morgan came while you were sparring; Morgan is fine, but still asleep so Robin left to move her to his bed." Say'ri felt a pang of jealousy... she had been deathly ill with fever several years ago, and while her mother and Yen-Fay had been there her father had barely visited her. Though, she supposed, he _was_ ruling a country. Ah well, time to get her things and... oh.

"I left my things in Robin's room," she thought aloud. "I'll need to go get them."

"What a coincidence, I need to talk to Robin myself! Shall we go together?"

She almost said yes, but she remembered she had some coins on her... enough for a rather appetising looking apple drink being sold on a stall she'd seen on the way here. If she were to be honest with herself, she'd already decided to join the Shepards. She could afford a little indulgence.

"I think I will tarry somewhere first Lord Virion. It would be better if you went ahead." She'd been expecting him to argue, but he'd agreed quite readily, and left her to her business.

* * *

After finishing the apple juice drink Say'ri made her way back to Robin's room. It was in the main square, so thankfully it wasn't hard to find. Entering the gloom of the makeshift barracks Say'ri bumped into a wall of muscle. Eyes adjusting to the darkness she realised it was Lon'qu, and the man had jumped several few back from her. "Be careful where you're walking," the man hissed.

"I am sorry Lon'qu," Say'ri began, but the man cut the rest of her apology off. "I have told Robin of your skill and how you fought. Good day." With that he quickly swept by her and out into the town.

What on earth was wrong with him? Had she said something? Done something? Well... she'd just have to worry about that later, Say'ri thought to herself before continuing up to Robin's room. As she did so, she thought of his words-did he say the same thing twice? Well, her Ylissean was going to improve at least, being forced to speak it all the time. Such confusion would not happen soon...

Turning the corner for the corridor to Robin's room Say'ri could hear voices as she approached the open door to his room.

"..._have_ to tell her," Virion's words floated down the hall to her. "It might not be..." whatever Robin was saying in reply was lost by an officer walking by her, his equipment jangling.

"You've seen her fight. Her sword as well, it's-" The same officer opened his door and shut it behind him. Say'ri paused-were they talking about her? Should she continue? Wait? Leave?

"I know... but we can't be sure." Sure about what?

"He's right," Another man's voice drifted out. "It 's possible, but it might not be. There's no point stirring up-"

"You bloody oaf, you heard what Lon'qu said!" a woman's voice drifted out, rough and husky, like the generals she'd heard speaking to her father. "There is no way it's a coincidence."

Might not be what... and what coincidence?

"It would explain so many things," Virion continued, his voice making it clear he was not going to give up. "Her swordsmanship, how she doesn't look quite like the other-"

The officer left his room again, gave Say'ri a look half suspicious and half curious, clearly wondering if she was a spy, before deciding a spy would not dress so distinctively and stand in the middle of the corridor, and left her to it.

'How I don't look quite like the others?' Say'ri's hand moved towards her face for a moment before it stopped. She knew her appearance was different, suddenly self conscious, but... no. No, even with her grasp on Ylissean she knew was clearly missing something. Well... better she stop eavesdropping, it was probably none of her business. No matter how sure she felt it was.

"Hello? I am here, Robin," she called into the room, arriving at the door. Looking in, Virion seemed slightly worried while two dark-skinned people immediately started examining her. She decided not to mention what she'd heard, eyes resting on Exalt Chrom by Robin's side, the tactician hunched over the table, already planning the army's next move. The Exalt gave a small nod to her. " Princess Say'ri, this is Khan Flavia and Khan Basilio."

She bowed to the woman, this 'Flavia', but when it came to the man Say'ri's eyes widened and she nearly took step back. By Naga... if Robin was tall then Khan Basilio was an oni; she felt the man could pick her up and snap her in two if he so wished.

For their part, the blonde woman give her a curt nod and the large bald man walked over to take her hand in his massive paw.

"So this was the ace up Robin's sleeve," he laughed, uncaring of the look on Say'ri's face. "Flavia and I were trying to find that commander for hours, hacked our way through half the garrison before the battle ended! You managed to save quite a few lives on both sides of the battle miss!"

"Let go of her you oaf," Khan Flavia snapped "You're scaring the poor thing. Look at you," she continued, retrieving Say'ri's hand from somewhere in his, "Your bicep's nearly thicker than her waist!"

Basilio laughed. "You're just jealous you can't get yourself as strong as me!" Flavia said a word to him Say'ri didn't understand but whatever it was only made Basilio laugh even harder. Seeing the argument about to start Say'ri decided to divert their attention. "It is fortunate you are here as well. I have a plan to get the rebels to unite and lend us their aid."

Basilio stopped laughing, and everyone looked at her with undivided attention. Even Robin stopped looking over his map, though he still kept glancing to Morgan.

"I came to the Yllisean League because the resistance is not... I am of Chon'sin, which is not a large country. Leaders of the other countries have either joined Walhart or they look upon me with distrust, for I am the youngest of the Imperial Family and..." she felt the doubt return. She was committed now though, so she continued. "...under the leadership of my elder brother, Yen-fay, my country has joined Walhart." No-one's expression changed at her confession. Realising they were still listening, she continued. "When they are not fighting like children amongst themselves they distrust me, insult me. They only care for themselves, and no-one tries to unify them. My attempts to organize any united resistance is like... how is it you say? Herding kittens?"

"Herding cats," Chrom corrected, "but go on."

"The weaknesses of men keep them divided. Fear, greed, pride. Fear of Walhart, a lust for expanding borders during the war, or simply their country's power. Pride, because I am a mere girl, the youngest of Chon'sin." Realising she was repeating herself, she decided to skip a bit of the speech she'd mentally practiced for weeks.

"The Yllisean league has a large army, with a gifted tactician and the Exalt-that will win o'er some who doubt a chance of success in resisting Walhart. Others will flock to you side for your divine blood Chrom. However, everything I have heard from rumour and our spies tells me the same thing. Walhart's army is extremely large, as it must indeed be to hold all the lands he has conquered. They greatly outnumber us."

Clever hawks keep their talons hidden-it was time to show hers.

"Chon'sin is deeply reverent of Naga, as are many other countries, including many of those in Walhart's armies. Walhart has already burned several temples to Naga so that he could strike down those that sought refuge inside them; it is common knowledge that many of his commanders and soldiers have not forgiven him for this."

She had their total attention. Feeling giddy that the most powerful people in Ylisse listened so intently to her she walked over to the map on Robin's desk.

"The Divine Voice of Naga is here," she began, pointing to the Tree of Naga on the map, "held captive by Walhart's men-they know she hates what Walhart has done to Valm, and would speak out against him if but given the chance, but Walhart knows to simply slay the Divine Voice would be too much. If we can free the Divine Voice from Walhart's men, the Divine Voice would almost certainly side with us. If she does such a thing, it will not just assure aid from swathes of the resistance, but strike a severe blow against Walhart."

It was fascinating watching Robin. Chrom and Basilio looked interested, Virion and Khan Flavia looked slightly taken aback, perhaps realising the audacity of her idea. Robin's expression was utterly blank, like a wooden figurine.

"So if the Voice of Naga herself sides with us," she summarized, "the resistance has something to unite around, and much of Walhart's army shall have soldiers with poor morale if they simply do not abandon him, soldiers that may well join us."

Silence met her proposal. Flavia, Chrom and Virion looked uneasy, unease that she started to feel as the silence stretched out. Basilio cut it with a rich chuckle. "It's ballsy, I'll give you that."

"Lady Say'ri is correct," Virion added. "Many of the people of Valm are religious, I know my country is but... that is a very great distance."

His country? That explained how he knew how many people the town supported. Khan Flavia was clearly unhappy too. "Virion's right. This is a long way inland..." she muttered, tracing her finger over the distance on the map.

Robin nodded. "Yes but... it's honestly a good plan. Better than what I was fearing we would have to do." Robin looked back to the map. "It _is_ risky, but the alternatives are to try and hold the line against a large army that's used to winning, on it's own ground, and hope we can win the resistance groups over-something Say'ri's made clear will be difficult, because they'll probably bolt at the first sign of things going against us. Or try and spread the army out and pull his army apart trying to be everywhere at once, when they have a large advantage with numbers." He paused, thinking some more."Say'ri's idea is audacious... and realistic. Walhart will know there's insurrection amongst his territory, he has to keep part of his army tied down to stop it bubbling into full scale revolt, but if the battle to secure this town is anything to go by he'll try to attack with overwhelming force. We have time until he can send those sort of numbers at us but he's going to do it. The sooner we can peel men away from him, the sooner we can stir up revolts, the better."

"We could travel light," Chrom suggested, warming to the idea. "A small strike force could cover more ground and perhaps free the Voice before the lines shift too close to the tree."

"The Shepards could do it," Basilio added. "Flavia and I can keep order here and push inland. We know from prisoners we've taken we outnumber any of Walhart's nearby forces by a massive amount so we can handle them. By the time we catch up you kids should have freed the Voice."

Realising she was outvoted, Flavia sighed with a shrug. "Oh what the hell-you won the war with Plegia and you've won it for us this far Robin. If you say we can do it, I'll go with you on it."

"Thank you for the trust Khan," Robin muttered, "but it wouldn't have been possible without Ferox's armies."

"Well, we'd better get going," Basilo rumbled, "and leave Robin to his planning. He' going to have his work cut out, come on guys."

The others followed him out except for Say'ri. Chrom gave her a thoughtful look, while Virion shot Robin... some kind of look.

She didn't see Robin's look, as when she'd turned to look at him he had his back to her, kneeling by Morgan's unconscious form. Stroking her cheek with the back of his finger he pulled a back stray lock of hair.

* * *

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you finish your sparring," he murmured quietly, standing and returning to his desk to plan. "Virion and Lon'qu told me what I missed. They both praised you greatly Say'ri," he smiled at her before sitting on the chair in front of the map, the old thing creaking in protest. He immediately looked to the sleeping girl to see if it had woken her; apart from a small moan, there was no reaction.

It was slightly surreal, being alone with a man like this. She'd have been chaperoned at home-the thought of the princess, alone with a man who wasn't her family or husband? In the _bedroom_ no less? Though... they weren't alone, technically. Say'ri moved to the foot of the bed and looked at Morgan. It was the first time she'd really got a good look at the girl; while she could only see the face poking out above the blanket she realised was the girl was very cute. She had freckles on her face, framed with that scruffy hair of her father's, but black as the darkest caves of Say'ri's homeland. A small mouth and nose with (currently closed) large eyes, and if she was as young as she looked the girl was on the cusp of womanhood, her face about to become more angular, more sculpted.

Sayri mused the girl was going to become the (Chon'sin) definition of beauty, like herself. Even if she wasn't in a few years the girl in front of her was going have her pick of men in Chon'sin... or any country, probably.

"How old is she?" Say'ri asked softly.

At that, Robin paused. "I..." he looked... regretful. "I don't know. She doesn't know either. We found her wandering in the ruins of a temple to Naga in Ferox and her memories are... patchy at best. She remembers me." His face clouded. "That's about it," he muttered darkly.

Say'ri felt her heart reach out in sympathy. "Nothing else? Not her childhood, her home?" Robin shook his head. "The only childhood memories she have involve me, stuff like teaching her tactics, or playing with her or telling her off for sneaking in and playing in the home's..." he gave a small scoff. "The home's weapon collection. It's where she got her sword from apparently." He waved a hand over at the tactician's robe draped on the bedside table, the sword propped up against the side and outlined under the girl's tactician robe.

"It must be hard," Say'ri murmured. "To have such a-" she caught herself from saying 'burden'. "...responsibility thrust upon you without warning."

Robin gave a stiff shrug. She'd apparently hit a nerve. "I don't think anyone's ready for being a parent," he suggested in clipped words. "The others have coped well enough. Tharja's a good friend but... I honestly couldn't see her as a mother before Noire." He gave up trying to focus on the map and turned it to face Say'ri. "Don't misunderstand me. It's not as if I don't want to get married," he smiled. "I'm thrilled I have a girl like her as a daughter. She's barely... fourteen I guess, but she's already so good at tactics. She's already catching me off-guard with things when we practice, and staying ahead of her is getting harder every time," he added proudly. "You should see her with a sword too-I don't know who trained her but they were good. She's better than me with a sword. Chrom, Lon'qu and Lucina are the only Shepards who can reliably beat her in training and Lon'qu tells me she's getting better by the week."

Such pride in his voice; he seemed to be fitting into his new role very well, she thought with a smile. Trying to organise the resistance was difficult and stressful enough-even her wildest dream of leading Chon'sin after the war filled her heart with less fear than the idea of raising a child. Robin was trying to make sure a war was won, and now had a daughter to care for alone as well? To say nothing of the obligation of finding her mother...

As if sensing her thoughts Robin gave a dry laugh. "Honestly I'm dreading trying to talk to her mother about this when I meet her. Can you imagine it?" He sat up straight on the chair. "Oh, your name is Robin? I'm pleased to meet you," he began in a falsetto voice, before dropping back to his normal voice. "Same to you, we're getting married and here's our daughter from the future. Say 'hello' Morgan."

Imagining the scene, she laughed for what felt the first time in months, certainly days. It trailed off when the sudden burst of animation flooded out of Robin and he slumped forward, head resting in his hands. "I don't even have any real clues to her mother," he groaned pitifully. "I have my suspicions but... I thought perhaps the hair, but she could get that from a grandparent. The freckles aren't mine, that's for sure."

Unsure what to say and desiring to hear more of such an important man's thoughts, Say'ri settled for echoing Robin. "'Tis a shame she can only recall you."

Leaning back into his chair, uncaring of it's creaks of protest, the man gave a weary sigh. "It's like there's some kind of block. If she tries to remember anything else she gets blinding headaches... like the one she had at breakfast, almost. It's never been this bad before."

"The others cannot help you with details?" Robin's blank look prompted her for more. "Princess Lucina for example?"

"Oh. Yeah... no." Robin shifted uneasily in the chair, drawing some more creaks of protest. "Apparently I... I was not in Ylisse for a long time. Lucina never met my wife, and she doesn't remember me before... before the failed war. The other children only met Morgan because she came with me when I returned to help Chrom try to stop Grima's resurrection. They only knew Morgan for the year she was with them and... Lucina said they never asked her after the first time, because she just burst into tears and cried for hours."

So Morgan might be her father's daughter, but she loved her mother dearly. Speaking of her mother... "Your wife was not present?" What kind of woman would not want to be with her husband and child?

Robin shifted again before he stood and walked over to the bed. Looking down at Morgan, he gave his answer. "Apparently not. I think..." he gave Say'ri a pensive stare. "I brought Morgan because she could have done with the experience. Or she begged me. She seems to get me to do the most ridiculous things for her already," he smiled.

The smile suddenly vanished, his expression matching the severity in his voice."Though I might know why her mother didn't come. I think she couldn't, she had to stay home."

He broke eye contact, settling on Morgan's robe while he worked up courage to say something. Say'ri waited-like her father she knew how to create a deafening silence that demanded someone break it. Besides... it looked as if these thoughts weighed heavily on Robin's mind.

"Say'ri," the man began; for the first time Say'ri saw genuine fear in his eyes, "I... I have to tell you this. I think Morgan might..."

Whatever the Tactician was about to say died on his lips when they both heard a quiet moan from the bed. Both looked to the girl, saw she was beginning to stir and in a moment Robin was kneeling by the side of the bed. Eyes fluttering open the first thing she saw was her father's face. "Father..." Morgan mumbled with a bleary smile, reaching for him. Taking her hand in his own Robin gave a small nod. "That's right, Morgan, it's me," he answered, visibly relaxing at Morgan remembering him. "I'm here."

"...Where am I?" the girl mumbled. The way the colour returned to her cheeks and focus to her eyes made Say'ri marvel-it was like the girl had simply been napping.

"You're in my bed Morgan," Robin explained. "You passed out this morning... remember?" The girl managed a sheepish look. "Gosh, I'm sorry father. I..." the girl's face lit up with joy. "I remember!" She sat bolt upright and pulled her father in for a hug, chin resting on his shoulder. "I... I remember home!"

Robin's face lit up. "You do? That's wonderful Morgan!"

"I know," she continued giddily. "I remember where it was! Growing up with you and..." She stopped, mouth open into a little 'oh' of joy, realising what else she could remember. Say'ri chuckled; the girl truly was adorable. The noise was enough for Morgan to notice her, and the girl's face widened into a smile.

"I remember mother too!" she added.

In flawless Chon'sin.

-Fin

* * *

_If you didn't see that 'twist' coming you... are a pretty sheltered person, honestly. _

_This damned thing got stuck in writer's hell. First it was entirely from Robins point of view, starting just before the landing, then I got Payday II in the steam summer sales (goodbye productivity!) and then my pc got a virus (which I at least got rid of.) Redid it from Say'ris point of view because the poor thing really got shafted for character development as did any post timeskip characters that weren't the children. Most of it's with supports and Say'ri just doesn't really get many. The glimpses you do get of her suggest a very driven, duty-bound woman who can find it hard to reign in her passion and strong emotions. I really like her, she's easily one of my favorite characters._

_Many thanks to Dame Namor and their (I suspect slightly overstretched by now) patience; they've been giving feedback since pretty much day 1, and I started this after my last work, so that's pretty over three months of proof-reading, bouncing ideas around with me and good feedback._

_As always, the title references music; this case, 'That which you seek' by Zack Hemsey_


End file.
